


Beware the Fair Folk

by Nanenna



Series: Faetale [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Do not post to another site, Do not repost, Fairy Tale Elements, Folklore, Gen, Mythology References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanenna/pseuds/Nanenna
Summary: A collection of disconnected one shots set in one generic AU: monsters as faerie. So really just an excuse for me to play with north western European folklore.





	1. A Selkie's Pelt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara stumbles upon a selkie party on the way home.

Chara hummed to themself as they walked along the road, long legs carrying them at a fast pace, bag slung carelessly over their shoulder. They had spent the day in town and were on their way home when they decided to take a detour to the shore road. It was quite the sight to watch the sun sink into the ocean in a blaze of brilliant oranges and yellows, pink wisps of clouds overhead, all of it reflected in glinting light over the water’s choppy surface, a breeze rushing in from the ocean ruffling their hair. Even though the sun had set and only the golden afterglow was left, they kept walking that same road.

A rocky outcropping forced them to move closer to the water, actually walking over the sand. That was fine, the tide was out so they weren’t likely to get wet. They cheerfully headed around the rocks. That’s when Chara noticed flickering firelight streaming from the other side of the rocks. Draped over the last few boulders and the few trees clustered near the rocks were seal pelts. Chara stopped dead, only now realizing they heard the rhythmic pounding of feet and voices laughing and singing.

Selkies!

Chara had heard the legends of selkies at their mother’s knee, how they looked like seals but would take their pelts off to reveal unbearably beautiful people underneath, that they would come to shore on the night of a full moon to dance, that taking a selkie’s pelt gave you control over them. Chara had no use for that last one, they were a little young yet to be thinking of settling down to marry, they weren’t even sure they ever wanted to. But to glimpse a group of selkies dancing… that would be a tale worth telling.

They gently placed down their bag and slowly crept towards the end of the rocky outcropping, crouching so they wouldn’t be spotted before getting their peek. If Chara were really lucky the selkies wouldn’t notice them at all and they wouldn’t get chased off or scare them. There was a shuffling, huffing noise and Chara stopped, crouching even lower. They peeked around the rocks to see one last, late seal slowly huffing it’s way up the shore.

The youngest, Chara immediately thought. Their mother’s stories always had that one last selkie late to join the party. The youngest, the most beautiful. Chara didn’t know why the youngest was always late and always the most beautiful in all the tales their mother told, even when it wasn’t about selkies, but they were. Chara thought watching the youngest shed their pelt might be better than spying on the whole party. Though getting to watch that and spy on the party too would be even better.

The seal gave one last huff, Chara thought it might be wider than it was long, before stopping and seeming to just give up. As Chara watched the seal heaved and stood up, standing taller than should have been possible even if seals could stand on their flippers. Long, slim, pale hands came up to grasp the head and pull it off to reveal a round, pale head atop thin, spindly shoulders.

A skeleton. The seal had just peeled off its skin to reveal a skeleton underneath.

The skeleton just dropped its skin right there on the sand and started to stretch. Chara put their hands over their mouth to keep themself from retching. Thank god it didn’t have any flesh or blood, Chara was sure they’d have lost their supper otherwise.

“SANS! THERE YOU ARE! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS THE LAST TO ARRIVE?”

Chara peeked around the rocks again to see another, taller skeleton with their hands on their hips glaring down at the first skeleton, who was shrugging.

“gotta be fashionably late, bro.”

“AND DON’T JUST LEAVE YOUR SKIN LYING AROUND! THAT’S SO UNSANITARY!” The taller skeleton stalked over and picked up the discarded pelt before neatly folding it and laying it over a tree branch that looked like it was a little out of the shorter skeleton’s reach.

“don’t let it, heh, get under your skin.”

“AUGH! WHY MUST YOU PLAGUE ME WITH YOUR INFERNAL PUNS?!”

“c’mon, bro, i think you need to grow a thicker skin.”

“I REFUSE TO STAND HERE AND LISTEN TO YOU MAKE MORE AWFUL PUNS! NOW GET OVER HERE, THE PARTY STARTED WITHOUT YOU.”

The tall skeleton put a hand to the small skeleton’s back and started guiding them… him???? past the rocky outcropping. Chara briefly considered sticking to their original plan to peek at the party, thought of seeing a bunch of skeletons dancing around a fire, then decided their evening had been waylaid enough and it was time to get home. They scurried over to their bag, picked it up, and headed inland to find the road home.


	2. Don't Step in Faerie Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk knew better, their mother had warned them, but the monsters seemed so friendly.

Frisk hummed cheerfully to themself, waving the stick in their hand back and forth as they tromped through the small patch of trees and shrubs between their neighbor’s house and their own. It was growing late, Mother would be calling them in for dinner soon. But she hadn’t yet, so Frisk was ambling slowly, taking their sweet time to wander through the familiar trees. They slowed to a halt, was that music? They looked around, leading off the well worn packed dirt path was a barely visible rabbit trail winding through the tall grass and under low branches. Frisk followed it, curiously going around twists and turns as the music grew louder.

They came out into a small clearing. Several whimsuns and froggits were dancing around in a circle, the small monsters singing and dancing as they held hands tightly. Frisk had been told that this was how faerie rings were made, that when the monsters were done dancing they would make mushrooms grow where they had been dancing, the ones the whimsuns sat on would heal anyone that ate them but the ones the froggits sat on would be poisonous toadstools. And they must never, ever step into a faerie ring or join in a monster dance.

But they wanted to see the mushrooms grown when the dance was over! Would they sprout and grow quickly? Or would they just pop out of the ground suddenly? Or maybe they would appear in the blink of an eye as if they had always been there? And maybe they could pick the magic mushrooms and take them home.

Frisk scooted closer, staying close to the grass and bushes surrounding the clearing. The froggits and whimsuns continued to dance, slowing down as their voices grew louder. Hand in merry hand they slowed until they were just walking around the circle, a few steps to the left, a few steps to the right, a hop, a foot lifted and wiggled about, hands raised still linked as the pattern repeated, somehow even slower. Surely they would stop dancing soon and Frisk would get to see the mushrooms pop up. They were so slow now. They were singing so prettily now. Soon, very soon, they were so close, so close.

The whimsuns and froggits turned their smiling faces to Frisk. A froggit and whimsun let their hands go, beckoning Frisk to come join them. Musical voices all gently called. Come join us, come dance with us! They were all smiling so cheerfully, friendly hands beckoning them closer. Frisk didn’t even notice their stick falling limply from their hand as they took the last few steps into the circle and took the monsters’ hands, smiling down at their new friends.

The whimsun tugged on their right hand, slowly leading them into the steps of the dance. Then the froggit on their left tugged as they started slowly walking the other direction. Step, step, skip, went the monsters as they started dancing faster, Frisk laughing with joy that they could keep up. They started to go faster and faster, whirling and laughing, singing to the pounding of feet and beating of wings, louder and faster. Frisk laughed, running hand in hand with the monsters so fast they thought they would trip, just like when they danced with their friends in the village square. Whirling dizzily around and around and around.

The froggits and whimsuns were gone.

Frisk stumbled blearily to their knees, gasping and panting for breath, the world still spinning. Warm, gentle handles carefully picked them up and cradled them close to a warm body, an unfamiliar voice murmuring soothing things they couldn’t quite hear over their pounding heart. Their head lolled, too tired to fight sleep as they were gently rocked.

* * *

“Tori, welcome home!”

“Hush, Gorey, you will wake them.”

“Oh, what is this?” Asgore asked in a much softer voice. “Another human? Tori, this is the eighth human child you have kidnapped.” Asgore put a great paw to his muzzle, muffling his laughter.

“I have never once in my life kidnapped a single person, monster or human. They were caught in a faerie dance, I merely rescued them.”

“Just as you rescued Justice and Percy. And who knows what would have happened to Patience, Caoimhe, or Erol if you had not taken them in. Chara was not your doing, I will admit. That was our son doing your work for you.”

“It is no fault of mine if human parents are so terrible at their job they keep losing small children in the woods.” Toriel couldn’t hold back a mischievous smile as Asgore muffled more laughter. “Now I am going to lay them down to rest, the poor dear. Lucky they were only danced to exhaustion by the time I found them and not worse. We can introduce them to the other children after they have had a nap.”

“That sounds wonderful, Tori.” Asgore gave Toriel a quick peck on the cheek before letting her carry their newest foundling to the child’s new room.


End file.
